"No, Harry, it's out of the question." Professor Lupin looked grave and tired. The toll of Sirius's death had hit him hard, as had the last full moon. He had come black, bloodied and bruised. Neglecting his potions wasn't the best idea he had ever had. But Remus was still boycotting anything having to do with Snape. He firmly believed that it was his fault Sirius was dead. Had he taught Harry Occulomency, none of this would have happened. Harry would not have had that planted vision. Harry would not have gone there on false pretenses of saving his godfather. Sirius would not have gone after Harry. Sirius would still be with him. Just to think his name was painful. A blinding heat rising behind his eyes, residing there, never leaving, hardly ever subsiding. "It was not so out-of-the-question when Sirius and my father became animagi for you!" "That was different," Remus still seemed very calm, but even talking about this was difficult. Especially with Harry. "I don't see how different it was!" "You are not your father nor your godfather!" Remus snapped and turned away, disgusted with himself. He should not snap at Harry so, for he too, had suffered a great loss at the recent death. He gave a shuddering sigh and turned to face Harry. Harry, too, looked on the verge of tears. Much more tired than any little boy should look. Pale and sad. Suddenly, Lupin was sorry for being short with him. "I- I'm sorry, Harry, I shouldn't have said that." Harry just shook his head. He knew he could never be his godfather, whom he so admired. Nor could he be his father, whom he had never known. But the realization still stung. Everything felt empty. He silently slumped back into the armchair. Professor Lupin followed his lead. "It's just. I- I am as wounded by S-Sirius's" he choked on the name but mastered himself, willing his voice not to crack, "Death as much as you are- " "You have no idea-!" "I think it is you who have no idea, Harry. Your youth tells you that you know all about everything. But you don't know all." He trailed off. "I don't care what I do or don't know! You don't have me pegged as well as you think, either!" There had been a lot of screaming at Grimmauld Place since Harried arrived in mid-July. Aimed, sometimes, at nobody in particular. The only reason Lupin had even dared approach him was at the bidding of Dumbledore, who thought they both could use a talking to. It had not gone as well as one would have expected. Harry had only proved to worsen his mood by yelling and screaming and raging and now, they were in a row about Harry becoming an Anamagi. "I'm sorry Harry, but I just don't want you to hurt yourself. It's very difficult, and not everyone can do it. If you are really determined, next time Dumbledore pops in, you can ask him." But Harry didn't want to ask Dumbledore. And he didn't want Lupin to be calm. And he didn't want to be calm. He wanted to have a row. He wanted something to scream about. Something to take his mind off what it inevitably wandered to: Sirius. Finally, he retreated into a state of forced silence, studying Professor Lupin. He could not possibly- no, never- well, maybe he could- he had known Sirius longer than me- oh, god, Sirius. His heart automatically sank whenever he thought of him. Nervous back flip, which ended in him judging himself and his actions of the past, none of which could be changed, almost all of which he could lead to disastrous ends. In fact, he was already imaging the disastrous end of everyone he loved. How would Voldemort do it with Lupin? What about the Weasleys? And Tonks? Or Dumbledore? Would everyone be gone before he, himself was dead? Would they cause him the most pain possible by taking away all he loved, before the end? His miserable thoughts were interrupted by a voice from behind him. "You should not think of such things," Said the melodious voice of Dumbledore, "You may give Mr. Riddle ideas. And since you failed to learn Occulomency, not even your mind is safe." Harry turned around in his chair, shame in his gaze as he tried to meet eyes with Dumbledore. He failed. Dumbledore was still smiling kindly, though, as always. Another thing that was really pissing Harry off. Everyone was being so kind, so understanding when he exploded in rage at the drop of a hat. Even Hermione and Ron. In fact, he had seen Ron flinch when he approached the other day. His heart sank again. Maybe it would not be Voldemort to ruin his relationships and the only people he loved. Maybe it would be him. "Leave us, Remus, I think I need to talk to Harry alone," Dumbledore did not break his even gaze on Harry, who was still looking down at his intertwined fingers. Lupin nodded shortly to Dumbledore and left the room. "Harry," Dumbledore said, taking him by the shoulders, "You must not blame yourself. Many people are responsible, and it would be arrogant and egotistical to think that you alone were the angel of death." The faintest smile curled the old man's lips. "Professor Dumbledore-" "Don't," he cut Harry off, "just wait, and let me finish. Now, you, as much as you resist all human contact, need to talk. There is no way you can do anything thing that will help anyone with bottled up negative energy inside you. And screaming and raging around 12 Grimmauld Place is no substitute for talking about how you feel. If you're angry, say so, but don't be angry under false pretenses. And I know it's not these little, petty things that are bothering you." His eyes looked tired and so very, very wise that Harry could not help but believe him. "Professor-" "And Harry, there is a person I want you to go to when you need to talk. Know that he will always be there for you, Harry, even when I am not." It struck Harry that that used to be Sirius's job, to be there for him. He let it slide, "Professor Lupin was very close to Sirius, Harry, closer, maybe, than you know. But that is not for me to say." Dumbledore rose suddenly, and crossed the room to the door. Talking to him always made Harry feel at peace, even when he didn't want to feel peaceful. Several minutes later, Lupin reentered the room, and took the seat across form Harry once more. "Professor Lupin?" said Harry, after a moment o sizing him up. The shabbiness of his robes was complimented by the tiredness in his deep amber eyes. "Yes?" Lupin asked, gazing at him evenly. "Professor Dumbledore said you were very close to Sirius. Closer than I was, and for a longer time, too. What do you think he will choose? Nearly- Headless Nick said that some dead people choose to stay with the living as ghosts." "Those people were afraid of death. That was never Sirius's way. He was not afraid of anything, ever. It was like an Marauder motto." Harry thought he saw Lupin almost smile. He hadn't meant to cause him more pain. He cleared his throat, willing his voice not to crack, as it too often did, "I'm sorry, about badgering you about becoming an animangus." "Oh, I talked to Professor Dumbledore about it," said Lupin casually, "He says to start tonight. It seems I was too hasty in coming to a decision," he finally met Harry's eyes, "I'm sorry to have been so short with you, but you must understand. you're not the only person this is taking it's toll on." The gaze was pleading with Harry. Pleading for him to understand the plight of his teachers, his friends. Harry nodded, finally understanding that he could not sit in a stupor over this. That he could not rage about the house. That just could not be allowed. He would not allow that of himself, for he was hurting others. He did not deserve to be in such a state. "I'm sorry Professor Lupin, but there really are things I must sat to a lot of people, and I really think I should start now. The same, kind gaze that he now always used with Harry descended upon his face once again. "No problem, Harry, talk to me any time, I'll tell you anything you want to know."